Tired
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: Natsume is sick and tired of going through the same hell over and over, but most of all he's tired of going through it alone. So just once he gives in to somone else, lets them do the protecting, the caring. He could kiss her out of thanks. MxN


Woo, a non-silly Gakuen Alice fic!

I felt this scene needed writing after spotaneously bursting into tears after episode 22 of the anime (I kid you not, I way in _tears_)

And for the general tragedy of Natsume.

* * *

The word 'angry' didn't even cover it.

She was _fuming._

The unfortunate situation of her not having any shoes meant that Sakura Mikan didn't make nearly as much noise as she wanted to while stomping down the dark hallway. However, if she _had _been making the racket she wished for it was unlikely the dormitory would remain standing, so fierce was her fury.

'_Bang-bang-bang-__bang!'_

Went her bare feet on the wooden floor, as closed doors passed by on either side; bearing a number of stars on them and a nameplate. But nothing from the plain doors to the ones spotted with three golden stars would satisfy her - she was hunting for a far bigger bounty.

_"Natsume!"_she screamed as more of the rooms bore empty nameplates, meaning they were uninhabited (so many empty three-star rooms and she had to live in sparse accommodation of a single-star, and had been shipped between that and a no-star several times since graduating as it was.)_"Natsume!!!"_

Finally she found it, the door marked with one star backed on a red circle, and immediately began to bash her fist against it, yelling the same name over and over at the paneling. "_Natsume_!"

Much to her surprise, after trying the handle Mikan found that the thing wasn't locked, and it swung open with another quick bash from her fist.

Inside Natsume Hyuuga's breath stopped dead in his dry, raw throat as he screwed his hand tightly around a sharp plastic shape, then quickly dragged a bedsheet up to his side and stuffed an elbow underneath it, covering his tracks from the eyes of unwanted onlookers.

"Natsume!" she parroted once more, sounding more like a scratched record than a person, and in the few seconds it took her to cross the room he quickly rubbed his brow dry with a sleeve.

"What are you doing here, idiot?" he mumbled hoarsely, but instead of a reply heard only her light footsteps as she paced around the room, distracted by its scale and 'style' of decoration.

Being the only special star in this branch of the high-school dorms, Natsume was the only one entitled to the highest standard of room. It was a fair size, _more _than fair, it was triple the size of hers _at least_, but the most disturbing thing about it was by far the wall opposite the bed. All up the side of it there were deep scorch-marks, great streaks of burnt wallpaper and plaster coming away from the brickwork in places.

No doubt as a consequence of this, a distinctly smoky aura hung about the place, and Mikan wrinkled her nose slightly at the acrid smell.

"So this is what you do in your spare time, Natsume? Burn the paper off your walls?" she remarked righteously. "You should take better care of this place, some of us only have a tiny one-star room, and would give…"

"Why are you here?" he interrupted. "It is past midnight, Polka-dots, so shouldn't annoying morons be in bed?" He rolled over and turned his back on her, hoping she wouldn't notice his hands shaking.

"Very funny!" spat Mikan as she stormed closer to him – as he seemed to be deliberately ignoring her. "You think it's funny to joke about being in bed after burning people's up to nothing for no good reason!"

Although she couldn't see him, his forehead creased in confusion. "What?" he said quietly, tucking his arm tighter underneath his side as he heard her getting closer: making sure that he didn't give anything away.

"You burnt up my bed with your Alice!" she accused. "It's impossible to sleep on now!" A part of the statement was true, because on returning to her room that night Mikan had discovered her bed and blankets completely destroyed by fire, a fire which was_ coincidentally _restricted to just the bed, therefore was in no way natural or easy to explain.

The connection wasn't hard to make.

(Although on this occasion, she'd made it wrong. Hotaru had merely been trying to enforce the evils of not paying back your debts to moneylenders, in ways more likely to attract her friend's attention than the usual nagging.)

"I don't know what you are rambling about, idiot," Natsume retorted. "I have been in my room all day." This was a lie, but there was no way he'd willingly admit where he'd been to anyone, not even Ruka.

_"Liar!_" She screamed, stamping her feet and waving her balled fists about in frustration. "You have, I know you have, you _ruined_ my bed and _where _am I supposed to sleep now?!"

Natsume sighed and let his eyes slide close, sleep threatening to take over from a mixture of boredom and fatigue; well, not so much sleep as 'passing out', but he didn't like to quibble over terms. "Why should I care?" he muttered. "I haven't been anywhere near your room, silly little girl, I might accidentally catch sight of your underwear…"

A second passed in which Mikan had to think about what he'd said, and then she was even angrier than before - if that was at all possible.

"Pervert!" she screeched. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" Natsume groaned softly and felt a bead of sweat run down his forehead, then curled up even tighter, praying that she wouldn't catch sight of anything he didn't want seen.

"I…_no_…it'd…make me…sick," he said between muffled gasps, thinking about how ironic the statement was at the moment. He was interrupted from the thought when Mikan suddenly snapped, and swung out a palm to slap him roughly on the shoulder.

"AHH!"

She stopped, startled by the way Natsume had cried out. She hadn't hit him that hard, and yet he reacted like she pressed a red-hot brand onto his back, and now that she looked at him closely - he was shaking.

"Go…away…_idiot_…" he snarled; his chest feeling like it was about to collapse under its own weight. "I…didn't…"

"Natsume?" said Mikan softly, leaning over the bed to peer over his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Releasing a ragged breath he hunched over further, and drew a closed fist into his body, but Mikan caught sight of his white knuckles before he could conceal them.

"What's in your hand?" she questioned bluntly. "Natsume? What is…"

"Nothing!" he spat. "Go away or I'll burn you! Even a _moron_ like you should be able to understand something simple like that!"

However, not only did Mikan have nullification to render that particular threat useless (and she was used to it by now), but she was curious - and wasn't going to let him stand in the way of _that_.

"Let me see!" she demanded as she stretched out an arm towards his fist. _"Natsume!_"

"No!" he protested. "Leave me…" but before he could finish Mikan had jumped forwards and grabbed his arm, then with a little more care than she might've used pulled it towards her.

"Let go of me!" he cried, trying to start a flame and scare her off, but she slapped her other palm over it and either through her Alice or his weakness the flicker went out.

They struggled again, but in his weakened state Natsume couldn't manage to push her away quite so easily as he wanted to, and their hands tangled together as she tugged and twisted at his fingers.

"Let me…see!" wailed Mikan as she put a knee up on the edge of the bed to lean further over Natsume, but the scuffle was suddenly broken by the sound of something falling to the floor on the far side of the bed, followed by a stream of clatters, rather like little marbles…only, not quite.

"What was that?" Mikan rushed as she lunged her body all the way over Natsume's to stare off the side of the bed, where she saw spread out over the floor a number of little capsules: half-red, half-white.

"Oh!" she cried in surprise. "You're sick?" slowly Natsume opened a single eye and looked up at her face, hanging almost directly over his head with a pitiable look of confusion.

"You…really are an idiot…aren't you?" he said weakly, sweat rolling down his face again as he finally let the muscles of his hand loosen, and as she slowly moved away he turned onto his back, letting the open position flood his lungs with much-needed air.

"Natsume…" Mikan whispered, as defeated, he let his hand flex open and she saw framed by red indentations where he squeezed the corners, a crumpled packet for medicine.

His fingers twitched after the lockdown ended, and as Natsume lay there wrapped up in the simple act of breathing, Mikan recalled the source and purpose of _that_ medication.

She'd definitely seen it before, several times in fact: like when Kaname-senpai came to visit from the hospital. Although there were also a few other students to be seen downing the pills in the medical ward on rare occasions, if they'd been pushed or practised too hard with their Alices.

But, this many…and the container they'd been in... "Natsume," she breathed, wondering how long he'd kept this thing a secret.

"Tell anyone and I'll kill you," he said bluntly, and something strained in his voice suggested that he wasn't kidding.

"But Natsu…" she said pathetically, then nearly jumped out of her skin when he seized up and let out a stifled groan, his face twisting in pain, which was when she noticed the medication was still in his hand: he hadn't taken it yet.

"Oh! Let me get you some water!" she rushed, looking about frantically for a something for him to drink, and eventually spotted a half-filled glass on a bedside table on the far side of the bed. "Here!" she ran around the bed to it, stomping on several pills in the process, and then held it forwards where Natsume lay scowling.

"I don't need…" he objected, but found himself somewhat swept away as Mikan snatched the pills from his hand and popped them into her own, then held them out in front of his mouth.

He frowned, feeling completely babied and annoyed by her mere presence. "Stop it!" he snapped, but this only gave the girl a chance to drop the medicine into his open mouth and hold the glass out insistently.

"Drink," she instructed. "Swallow!" Unwillingly, he snatched the cup out of her hand and took a small sip, then pushed himself up in bed to swallow without chocking.

In the following moments he vainly hoped that Mikan, _satisfied_, would leave him alone and perhaps even conveniently disappear off the face of the earth - so she wouldn't go spreading her big mouth around school and telling everyone what she'd just witnessed.

However, much to his disappointment, her face turned sour and she hovered by the edge of the bed looking tearful. "I don't see why you are looking so upset," he remarked coldly, "because this is nothing to do with you…"

"Nothing to do with me!" she snapped angrily, making Natsume flinch at her tone. "You are so... so... _selfish _sometimes, Natsume!" Although somewhat confused by this remark, he found himself too weak to care for a response until she was making more sense, and instead let his spine go slack again as he lay down.

"How long has it been?" she demanded. "How long has this been going on?!" he let his eyes gloss shut and tried to think back to a time before these episodes…he was fifteen now, so…

"Six…seven years?" he mumbled emotionlessly, and then all of a sudden felt something heavy and warm resting on his chest - not welcome considering its current state - along with a thinner band of heat across his stomach. Upon opening his eyes a crack he learnt that it was her head and arm, laid cheek against his chest and wearing a truly despairing expression.

A few tears escaped from Mikan's eyes, seeping lightly onto Natsume's shirt and soaking through the dark material of his top. "…Why?" she asked him weakly. "_Why_, Natsume?" he let go of a sigh and began to push one of her shoulders away; she was heavy and hurting him.

"Get off me," he groaned, _"dummy_." Reluctantly she slid back and ended up kneeling on the floor next to the bed, chin resting on her hands on the edge of the bed as more tears rolled freely down her face. "Why would I tell an idiot like you anything?"

Sniffing, Mikan rose up on her knees and tried to hold back from sobbing louder. "Because…" she tried pathetically, "because…" slumping down again she laid a cheek against the covers and gave up, crying even harder. "Because it's _important_…" she eventually sobbed.

"You knew my Alice did this," he said calmly. "You've _known _for years."

"But…" she replied, lost for words because it was _true_: she had more-or-less known that his Alice took away from his lifespan every time he used it… but, it was still such an awful thing to be surprised with, especially when it looked so terrible. "…This bad?"

Natsume sighed again, something he seemed to be doing far too much in recent times: maybe he was _tired_, tired of having to go through this battle almost every night, tired of secret trips to the hospital and stamina shots just to make it seem like he was as strong as ever, and not slowly wasting away… just, _tired_.

But most of all, he was tired of having to do it all _alone. _He knew very well he was going to die young, but _dammit_! He didn't want to die alone, not anymore. He'd got this far suffering by himself, and it was simply killing him doubly fast.

"This isn't bad," he remarked impassively, as his eyes fixed on the ceiling, it too bearing the odd scorched patch of his boredom or frustration. "This is normal."

"Normal?" Mikan echoed disbelievingly. "_Normal_, Natsume?" with another loud cry she grabbed hold of his sleeve and tugged on it pleadingly.

"This _isn't_ normal, Natsume," she whimpered, as if she could change something by crying hard enough. "This _can't_ be normal." Once again he let a heavy breath escape his chest, but somehow didn't feel the need to remove her hands from his sleeve.

"It's how things are," he stated blankly. "So, if you would just leave me…"

"No," she retorted before the words had even left his mouth. "I'm not going." He rolled his eyes; naturally she would stick around and make herself as much of a pain as possible: well, in all due respects she wouldn't really be Mikan if she didn't.

His chest rose and fell quickly, quicker than usual, as Mikan hovered uncertainly be the bed. She couldn't exactly _leave _him like this…but he didn't appear to want her to help either, she simply didn't know what to do.

"Uh…" she mumbled, trying to think of something to do other than just_ standing_ there, while Natsume let his eyes close once more and willed her away - this was embarrassing enough without her hanging around to make it worse.

He appeared to fall into a light sleep after that point, because he no longer reacted to Mikan's movements around the room as she paced out of thought and worry.

On one side of the room, a set of shelves held large jar nearly three-quarters full of rabbits (the currency, that is, not the animal) and it wasn't even loose change, almost half the contents were notes. Mikan guessed there was easily more than a thousand rabbits stuffed so carelessly into that container, and although at other times she might've been suitably stunned by exactly _how _well-off he was, at the present she merely noted it with a sad sigh.

He had all the money he could ever want, but nothing he bought would make a blind bit difference to the situation: he would still be a pawn, he would still be constantly under Persona's watch... and he would still be sick.

She looked back at him, curled up on one side of the bed in an unhappy slumber, and the beading of perspiration on his face brought an idea into her mind. She carefully tipped all the money out of the jar and tucked the thing under her arm as she made for the door.

"I'll be right back," she told him quietly (although he didn't wake), and slipped out the room to the nearest bathroom, where she wet and wrung out a flannel, then half-filled the jar with cold water and returned.

This was how Natsume came to wake up with a cool cloth against his forehead; his body rolling into the dent Mikan was making sat on the mattress next to him with the jug in her lap.

"What are you doing?" he mumbled. "You woke me up…_idiot_." Much to his annoyance she just smiled and pressed the bundled up flannel to his cheek, which as much as he wanted to hate it, was quite a nice sensation.

"I'm looking after you," she said proudly. "You're burning up, Natsume." He frowned in protest, but didn't try to stop her; as for one moment it was relieving to simply _give in_ and let someone else take control.

"…Mikan," he began after a little while of laying there and letting her fuss.

"Lift your head," she instructed, and he furrowed his brow distainfully as she dunked the flannel in the jar of water and squeezed it out. Then she held it out and wiggled it in front of his face. "It's for your neck."

He eventually got the hint and tipped his head up so she could place the flannel under his neck. To hell if it was making the covers wet, it cool and refreshing and he couldn't remember a time he'd been so _looked after_ by someone.

"…_Thanks_" he mumbled quickly under his breath, and although she only caught half of it Mikan didn't ask him to say it again (he'd probably only call her an idiot).

After while she spotted some funny shapes in the sheet by Natsume's side, then without thinking and too fast for him to react, she leaned over to tug it back, fully uncovering the rest of the medication.

"Oh," she whispered sadly at the crumpled packets and containers he'd been in such a rush to hide. "…Do you… need any more of these?"

"No," he replied sharply. "I'm fine, _Sakura_, you should just go now and…"

She cut him off with a tired sigh and pulled the flannel out from under him to re-wet it. "I told you. I'm not leaving."

Secretly, without making any outward sign of it, Natsume was glad she said that. Thankful that he wouldn't have to be alone for a while. He remembered how nice it was, having someone look after you.

The next time Mikan raised her hand again to dab at his forehead Natsume quickly brought up an arm and caught her wrist mid-air, and slowly brought it down to his level; where he pressed her knuckles against his lips for a brief moment and let go.

"_...Mikan_," he whispered docilely, meaning far more than the word in itself, but she understood, nodding at him with that same smile he hated and loved at the same time.

He closed his eyes and began to drift off sleep again, only stirring when she moved the jar off the bed and lay down next to him, too tired to move anywhere else and lazily stretching out an arm to daub at a pinkish spot on his cheek, before letting her arm go limp as she too began to doze (she didn't realize it, but that flush hadn't come about because he was too warm.)

"Nite'" she mumbled with a sigh, and Natsume opened an eye a crack as he felt the cool rush of her breath over his cheek.

'_Goodnight,'_ he thought drowsily, _'Mikan.'_

* * *

Six months or so later both Mikan and Natsume sat in the same room, on the same bed... except he wasn't really sitting, so much as laying down with his head in Mikan's lap.

She absent-mindedly ran her fingers through his hair as exhaled over her crossed legs, blinking slowly, as if he was putting thought into that simple action.

She looked around at the bedside table, where a series of pop-out packets and pill-containers stood in a neat line.

It was almost routine now.

It hadn't been straight away; the habit had gradually formed through a few haphazard visits and guesses. If he ever skipped a meal or got back late from a mission, Mikan would just 'happen' to be around his end of the dorms, and he never locked his door after that first night so she could always peek in with a timid 'How are you feeling?' if she really wanted to.

He always said he was 'fine', which was almost a running joke, but she could usually guess whether he meant 'actually fine' or 'not fine' and would act accordingly. After all, it wasn't like he wanted to spend _every _night with her (nor did she want to spend every night with him).

But then there _were _the nights when he felt like hell, and was screwing up tissue after tissue stained with his own blood. On _those _nights she'd sit with him: head in lap, drawing the slick hair off his face and counting out medication, a damp towel if he was hot and blankets if he was cold.

She was caring for him, just like she was the mother and he was a poorly kid, even though he was sixteen years old and she was only fifteen. He'd let her cradle him and baby him (although it was made painstakingly clear that he _was _only letting her) and say stupid things like 'you'll be fine' and 'just get better, Natsume' and he'd let himself believe her, just for a while, until they fell asleep and the sun rose on hell again.

And sometimes, he could kiss her out of thanks, thanks and _relief _at not having to do this alone anymore…sure, there were the people who said and tried to do the same things; some of them, like Ruka, did help in their own ways.

But only polka-dots, with her annoying persistence and point blank _obstinance _had managed to get through to him, to get under his skin.

Then one night, he _did _kiss her. Just sat up and _kissed _her, and kissed her, and kissed her until their lips were sore and he had to break away into a coughing fit, and she just smiled and handed him a tissue. Then when he stopped coughing she gave him something to drink and grinned and said she didn't like the taste of his medicine very much, but _she _kissed him anyway, softly and sweetly and not at all like he'd been with her…but _damn, _it was all the same to him.

So he pulled her down with him, arms around her slim shoulders, and he held her and hugged her and told her he wasn't going to let go of her, _not ever…_this time...

This time she was _his_.

* * *

I love Natsume way too much for a 10yr old. But I just want to _hug _him, poor baby.

Every time you leave a review Natsume's life gets a bit longer ;P


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